


Three Things

by estelraca



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard
Genre: Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-15 18:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: Thor doesn't always remember what happened, but during one of the times he does, he goes to see how Loki is doing and finds something unexpected.  Post-series, post-Secret Wars.





	Three Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Kings_Scribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kings_Scribe/gifts).



> "Agent of Asgard" (and Loki's entire character arc from Journey into Mystery into Young Avengers into Agent of Asgard) is one of my favorite comic arcs of all time, and it was a joy to get to write something for it. I hope that you enjoy this.

_Three Things_

Sometimes Thor remembers, and sometimes he doesn't.

He remembers now. He remembers all of it—that Loki died, that Loki was reborn as a child, that Loki murdered that child. He remembers that he dragged Loki the child-murderer, Loki the self-murderer, to stand in front of the rest of Asgard and be judged. He remembers that Loki was banished, and the anguish in his heart—sorrow and rage and helplessness and so much grief.

He has always loved his brother, no matter what his brother did. There had been so much joy and relief in Loki being reborn—in Loki becoming something innocent, no longer the God of Lies, the God of Mischief.

Except Loki _was_. Thor understands that—has always understood that there are pressures on them to conform to expectations. Pressures that mortals don't understand, because mortals don't have to encompass an aspect of divinity in its entirety. Mortals aren't as bound by the stories that are told about them as the gods that they worship.

Loki thought no one understood, but Thor did. There was just precious little he could do about it aside from add his own notes to the story—his love, his faith, his hope that Loki could be something better than he was.

That Loki could be more than his own killer, and the sick morass of emotion rises up again, though grief is now the most dominant. How many other stories could young Loki have told if his tale wasn't cut short so mercilessly?

And why doesn't Thor always remember? Why does it sometimes feel as though everything that happened is crystal clear, and at other times as though everything is as it was before Loki died? Is there some great story being woven here that Thor is unaware of?

Thor frowns as he knocks on the door to Loki's apartment. If there is a great story being written, he would like to know why and by whom, so he can decide if he needs to prepare to fight them or not.

Loki answers the door, lounging against the frame in a relaxed, genial way. He smiles, and one of his teeth is missing. His hair is a wild thicket of black, and the bones of his face have subtly changed, becoming something that is reminiscent of Loki's form without actually _being_ Loki's form.

"Hello, Thor. Or Odinson." Loki's smile becomes more gentle. "I will call you that, if you wish. Though I have known you as Thor for so long, and have no doubt you will be Thor again, that I find it difficult not to associate you and the name."

"Loki, I—" Thor frowns. Why did he come here? To see his brother, yes. To ensure that Loki is... does he want Loki to be all right, after all that Loki has done? To see how Loki is doing, then, and to get some answers if he can. "What is happening here?"

"Just a brotherly discussion." Loki steps back from the door, gesturing for Thor to follow him—and he will allow Loki to call him Thor, just as his thoughts most often take the name for himself. Centuries of habit are hard to break, even if one feels unworthy of a title. "Now come, please. Sit with me."

"Why should I?" The words sound harsh, _feel_ harsh as they rise up out of Thor's throat. He doesn't know he means to say them until they are freezing the air between him and his brother—between him and the man who _murdered_ his brother, and Thor never knew it was possible to love and hate in such equal measures. Love brought him here; hate brings the questions. "You are banished from Asgard, dead to all of us. Why should I sit and break bread with you?"

"I haven't offered you bread, though I can if you want. I'd go for a cookie, myself. Maybe doesn't roll off the tongue as easily in the saying, but it certainly tastes better, and we might as well use this godly metabolism for something." Loki flashes a grin as he throws himself down in an armchair. The couch that he gestures towards is overstuffed, inviting, looking more designed for comfort than beauty as opposed to the furnishings Loki used to have. "And as for why you should sit with me... it's because this isn't a disguise. This isn't a trick. The man that you banished is dead, and I sit in his place. And I..." Loki's eyes flicker, his calm and confidence falling away for just a moment. "I don't care what most of them think, but I would have you see me, brother, at least once."

Thor stands frozen in the entryway to the apartment, staring hard at Loki. "When you say the Loki I banished is dead..."

"You've always said I am my own worst enemy. Usually I would have sneered at you, but given everything, I think you were right." Loki's form shifts, subtle changes happening before Thor's eyes, and by the end of the sentence Loki's body is female. "I want you to understand all of it, if you will give me a chance to explain. To understand how I came to be a monster, and what I did to try to break free."

Thor studies his sister, and sees nothing but truth shining from her eyes, sincerity in every line of her face. It could be a trick—Loki has tricked him often enough before—but Thor wants it to be real, and so he will let it be real to him. "Speak, then. Let me understand."

Loki draws a breath, relief softening her expression, and then begins to talk in a story-teller's voice. "I died a hero, or tried to. I wanted it to start that way, you see—my story to start with a hero's death, because perhaps it would make things easier when I came back. Except the Loki who died defending Asgard didn't come back. He went into the void, alone and scheming, and nothing will bring him back."

"You have always been full of tricks. Some thought that was your greatest one." Thor moves slowly over to the couch, settling down on it gingerly. It is just as comfortable as it looked. "Was your sacrifice real, then? Did you truly lose something?"

"I lost myself." Loki studies her fingers, pressing their tips gently against her thigh. "But I wasn't terribly much of a loss at that point, in my own opinion. I was so bound in the lies and the mischief and the villainy... when even _I_ didn't like myself, it was time to change. But I went about it all wrong. The Loki who died left a copy of himself behind—a copy that stalked and shaped the next incarnation of myself. You know what happened with my child self."

Thor doesn't close his eyes, though a part of him wants to as rage and sorrow clench his hands into fists and draw the start of tears. _Brother_ , he hears whispered in a child's tongue, and yet in the end he was helpless to do anything for the boy. "You murdered him."

"He died. But he died fighting, and he died as himself, having been the hero that he wanted to be. Having been a good friend. Having been an agent of chaos, but not an agent of evil." Loki smiles gently, and her face shifts once more, from scruffy but comfortable woman to scruffy but comfortable man. "If I could undo that child's death, I would. Even now, even having died again, I would take back that one crime—be neither murderer nor murder weapon nor murder victim. I would let him live, and see what could come to be."

Thor's fingers are clenched so tight all his knuckles ache, and he remembers looking down into small, earnest eyes. He couldn't promise the boy that he'd kill him, in the end. He could only promise to try to save him, and such a terrible job he has done of it. "How can you ever be forgiven for what you did?"

"I can't be. It was the crime that cannot be forgiven." A wry smile touches Loki's face again. "Which is why I had to change again. Because I couldn't let that child die and have nothing come of it. So the Loki who was murder weapon, the Loki who wanted to change but couldn't because from the start his hands were drenched in child's blood... that Loki, too, decided to pass into the darkness."

"To pass into..." Thor feels a sort of numb horror move out from his chest. "He _died_? _You_ died?"

"Yes." Loki leans forward, not smiling now, his hands dangling down between his knees. "I died, again. Three is a powerful number, after all. Three days our father hung on the world tree to gain knowledge. Three times Loki gave his life to get the same."

"But—I—he..." Thor trails off, new grief rising up to mix with the old. "The last thing I said to him..."

"It wasn't kind. It wasn't fair. But that doesn't mean it wasn't true." Loki—the new Loki, the Loki who isn't trying so desperately hard to look _pretty_ and _good—_ runs a hand back through his hair. "I think that's why it hurt him so badly. He was the murder weapon, yes, but he became a _sentient_ murder weapon, and that makes quite a bit of difference."

"I just want to have my brother back." Thor's voice cracks a bit, but he doesn't try to disguise the emotion. "Loki—are you still Loki? Can a man who has died and been reborn so much still be said to be the same?"

"I am of the same archetype. I hold the same position in the story, fill the same hole to keep the narrative from collapsing." Loki meets Thor's eyes evenly. "But I am not the same Loki who went into the void. I have three things he left me—three beautiful things—but the rest... there are many different ways to fill a hole, you know, especially if you decide to work in three dimensions instead of two."

"What three things?" Suspicion turns Thor's voice hard and ugly, but he can't push it aside. Gifts from previous lives have not always been what they seem with Loki.

"Peace, brother. Nothing terrible. I wished to remember that if someone forges a box for me, I will not be trapped in it. Even if that someone is me. I will have _choice_ , no matter what." A certainty that borders on fury fills Loki's eyes as he speaks those words, though the emotion fades to be replaced by a smile as he continues on. "And I wanted to remember that I have a best friend. Her name is Verity, and she's amazing." Loki's smile slips once more, and his eyes are deadly serious as he stares at Thor. "And I wanted to remember my brother, and that I love him, even when we fail each other."

"Ah, Loki..." Thor reaches out with his left hand, not certain what it is that he intends to do.

Loki catches the proffered hand, smiling as he studies his slim fingers next to Thor's battle-hardened hand. "I haven't been a very good brother to you for a long time. And I know you think you failed, in multiple ways. That you should have been able to tell when the new me died. That you should have somehow been able to detect and stop my descent into madness before then. But let me tell you a secret, now, while I cannot tell a lie—it was not your fault."

A weight that Thor hadn't even felt settle on his heart seems to lift, and he holds tight to Loki's hand. "I would have saved you if I could. Even this last time—I don't know how you died, but I would have saved you if I could."

"I know. You're a hero that way, even if sometimes you forget. But don't worry." Loki's grin widens. "Some threads are too integral to cut out of the narrative. You will be a hero again someday—perhaps standing next to your lady. Two Thors to rend the sky with righteous thunder. I rather like the sound of that."

Thor looks away, though he doesn't pull his hand free of Loki's grasp. To wield Mjolnir once more... to be worthy of the mantle of Thor... it is all that he wants, and all that he feels he will never have again.

Loki's free hand reaches out to touch Thor's face, turning Thor's gaze back to him. "Peace, brother. I know it is difficult to find, when your heart hurts so much, but try to find it if you can. Because no matter how you feel, no matter where the story takes you, I am certain that in the end you will be more than worthy. That you _have always_ been more than worthy, even when you lose your way."

Thor draws a shuddering breath. Does he contradict Loki, remind him of everything that has happened? Does he sink into the relief that Loki's words bring? Neither feels right, and so he shifts the conversation. "You keep saying _story_ , as though that word were precious and important."

"Yes. I do. Because it always has been, and it especially is to me now. What is a lie but a story that you wish others to believe, after all?" Loki gives Thor's hand a brief squeeze before freeing his fingers. "I am Loki, and more than the god of lies or the god of mischief, I am the god of _story_ , and honored to be worthy of that."

"The god of story." Thor's eyes rake up and down his brother's form, and a smile flutters at the corners of his mouth. "It fits you, brother."

"Why thank you. I know." There is pure, fierce joy in Loki's smile. "And I am glad that you know, Thor. I... I haven't always been a good brother. But you have always been dear to me, and so I wanted you to know me."

"Why was there a risk that I wouldn't?" Thor frowns. "Why do I sometimes remember all that has happened, Loki, and sometimes not? Is this your doing? Are you—"

"It is not my doing, though I see it more clearly than you do." Loki speaks with earnest haste, reaching out to touch Thor's hand again. "There are stories that need to be told, brother. Stories that are integral to who we are. And then there are other stories—stories that only those closest know. Sometimes they, too, are integral to who we are, but it can be harder to hold all of them. Especially when you are new to being a god."

Thor's frown only deepens. "I don't understand."

"There is a family. A very special family. And they remade the world recently, salvaging all that could be salvaged from a great cataclysm." Loki smiles again, and this time there is a sad edge to it. "But the Loki that they knew and the Loki that I had become—they were not the same. And rather than fold myself into the narrative, accept the world as they have made it, I took myself and Verity out of it. So I am me, Loki, trickster god of stories. But I am not always _me_."

Thor sighs. "I still don't understand, Loki. In plain terms."

"There was a war. The destruction of worlds. I saved Asgard—no, don't look like that. I wanted no thanks. I merely wanted to ensure there would _be_ an Asgard in this new world—that the people I know, and have loved, and have hated, would all still be here. And they are, fitted nicely back into the narrative—a narrative that only sometimes remembers it was interrupted." Loki draws a breath, form slipping from male to female and back again. "But the Loki I folded into the narrative wasn't myself. It was... ah, he is hard to explain. He called himself King Loki. He hates Loki perhaps more than anyone has ever hated Loki. And so he tried to destroy what good there was in himself."

"Loki—"

"He came back in time, from a world that was beautiful for everyone but him. From a world where Midgard burned, and he stood amid the rubble, the God of Lies, the God of Villains. And he tried to break the me-that-was, the me-that-had-been-him." Loki's arms are wrapped around his chest, hugging himself. "Don't make me say more. Let what happened between us be. Let him find a new narrative—find what I found, a way to be more than he was ever destined to be. After all, I'm proof that it's possible."

Thor stares at the person sitting before him, the person who is-and-isn't the brother he has loved so many times before. "You've changed."

Loki grins, and the mirth in the expression can't be anything but real. "I have. Do you like it?"

"You are confident in yourself. Less desperate. In less pain." Thor's eyes rake over Loki, over Loki's apartment. "You have no need to prove yourself."

"No. I have proven myself _to_ myself. The opinions of others pale beside that." Another flash of a smile, and Loki props his head on his fist. "But I wanted to show you. For my sake, because I love you, brother. I always have and always will. And for your sake. Because on the other side of doubt and fear and a loss of self there can be something great."

"But this means..." Thor frowns, thinking through the repercussions of Loki's story. "There are two of you, now?"

"In a way. Though for you, for most times, there will be only one Loki—the Loki whose future will never be, whose past I was and was not." Loki straightens, all sincere gravity as he frowns at Thor. "Treat him well, brother. Be what you always were with me—kind when you can be, certain when you need to be, just even when justice is painful."

"Ah, Loki." Thor— _Odinson—_ sighs as he shakes his head. "I cannot even be just for _myself_ now."

"You can be. You will be." Loki stands, resting his hand atop Thor's for a moment. "You are Thor Odinson, brother of Loki, and you will stand in glory again before long. But for now..."

Thor stands, as well. "Am I being dismissed?"

"You are destined for other stories right now." Loki's voice is gentle as he takes Thor's elbow, steering him towards the door. "I just wanted to take this opportunity to see you."

"If the Loki that I will see most often isn't you, then—"

"Oh, I'll be here and there. There are stories everywhere, after all. And some interesting ones I'd like to try. There's nothing like a time travel story or a meeting-yourself story to be improved by a trickster's touch, now is there?" Loki's smile now is easy and charming. "But there are worlds upon worlds, stories built on stories, and for the most part I will be on a different level than you are. But that will not change that you are my brother."

"As you are mine." Thor pauses in front of the door. His eyes rake up and down Loki's form once again, and then he pulls his brother into a fierce hug. "This isn't a trick, is it? You've really become someone different. Someone better."

"I've become what I hope my other self will." Loki hugs Thor back tightly. "Someone worthy to be your brother, I think."

"Loki." Thor sighs, holding Loki out at arm's length. "You never had to be _worthy_ of being my brother."

"I know." Loki smiles once more, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Smiling fits well on this new face of his. "But I'm glad I can say it, anyway."

"These stories of yours... those crafting them..." Thor pauses, not sure how to phrase his question—not sure he even grasps all that Loki has told him.

"Your world, right now, was crafted in love by a family. By the imagination of children, the dreams of scientists, the bravery of heroes. It's a good world, and I don't think you should fear the stories it will tell." Loki gives Thor a gentle shove towards the door. "Just keep being yourself, brother. Be worthy in your own eyes, and everything else will follow."

Thor doesn't remember taking a step back, but he must have, because Loki is leaning against the door and watching him. "You have a great deal of faith in me."

"You've never let me down." Loki's grin is fond, looking almost like it did long ago, when they were children and siblings and things were so much less complicated. "Even when I've disappointed myself, you've never let me down. Go with peace, god of thunder, and know that your brother loves you."

"Same to you, god of stories." Thor puts his fist above his heart. "Your brother will love you, through eternity. Our failings wouldn't hurt so badly if I didn't."

"Well spoken, Thor." Loki straightens, closing the door as he speaks. "Safe travels."

The door closes, saving Thor from having to say anything else in response.

He leaves the apartment building, and by the time he's halfway down the street he doesn't remember why he came to this neighborhood in the first place.

It doesn't matter, though, because hope burns fiercely in his chest for the first time in what feels like an eon, and Thor will not look askance at any travel which brings him that.

XXX

Loki leans his head against the closed door, exhaling softly.

Verity comes out of the guest bedroom, her bare feet making only the softest sound against the carpet. "That seemed to go well."

"I hope so." Loki straightens, turning to face his best friend. "Do you think this was right? Coming here? Dragging him here?"

"Yes." There's no hesitation in Verity's answer. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she offers Loki a tired smile. "He's your brother. You love him. Like you said, it's one of the three things you kept."

Thor, Verity, and his freedom. They were the most important things to the Loki-that-was, and the Loki-that-is still clings tight to them.

Even if one is now a harder relationship to maintain. "I just... I had to see him. To show him. To see how he would react to me."

"There's no shame in needing some closure." Verity reaches up to push hair behind her ear. "And I think it was good for him, too."

"Good." Loki sighs again, more audibly this time. "The hardest part of any story is when the hero has to question who and what he is."

"Is everything just a story now, then?" Verity turns away from Loki, moving over to the window. The view has changed, from skyscrapers and scurrying citizens to a starscape made of flame. "Are we just... characters in it?"

"Everything has always been stories. Your life. Mine." Loki puts his hand on Verity's shoulder, watching the beauty of the universe splayed out before them. "All a story means is that events have been given meaning. Chaos has been made to have an order, a purpose, a plot."

"And what are we now?" Verity leans against Loki's side. "If we're outside the story... if we're looking in..."

"There are levels of story, one atop another. We'll never be completely outside it." Loki gives her shoulder a squeeze. "As for what we do... I could leave you back in our original story, if you wanted."

"Or?" Verity arches one eyebrow.

"Or you could keep coming with me. Look for places we can help, boxes we can wriggle out of, tricks we can play and stories we can make better." Loki can't help grinning. "Have I mentioned how exciting it would be to meet other versions of me?"

"Once or twice." Verity's brow crinkles as she studies him.

"Thrice. This is thrice, and three is a powerful number." Loki looks out the window, not surprised to find that the starscape has been replaced by a beautiful rolling field. "Would you like to continue on this adventure with me?"

Verity returns his smile, her hand slipping down to find and grip his tightly. "Since it's nice to have a friend... yeah. Let's see where this story takes us, Loki."

Loki has no doubt it will take them many places. Some good, some bad; some glorious, some horrific; some longed for, some loathed.

But he has his best friend at his side. He has a brother that he loves.

And he will escape any boxes that he's placed in, but the box he's built for himself—the life he's built for himself—that he's content to sit in for as long as possible.


End file.
